


Fie, Amazon, Fie!

by pjordha



Category: I Love Dick (TV)
Genre: Epistolary, Explicit Language, F/M, Menstruation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 11:48:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13480848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pjordha/pseuds/pjordha
Summary: This is the *next to last* letter that Chris writes Dick.  Post season 1 finale.





	Fie, Amazon, Fie!

Dear Dick,

 

HERE'S MY NEXT TO LAST LETTER TO YOU.

 

YOU FUCKING FUCK.

 

I suppose you think I should be grateful that you almost fucked me.  What's a little menstrual blood between artistes?  It may or may not have been one of my fantasies to ride you and the crimson tide at the same time.  It's great for cramps.

 

You give me cramps.  Thinking about you in those fucking cowboy boots and those jeans gives me cramps.

 

You don't deserve to have me.  Why did you stop?

 

This is how it should have gone:

 

You:

You made me so hard.  Feel how hard you made me?  You're a fucking goddess.

 

Me:

I know.  Worship this.

 

You:

You're so wet, not because of me, but because of you.  But what's this?  Your sacred moon flow?  You honor me with this.

 

Me:

Yes, you are honored.  Now lay back and take it.

 

You:

Mount me and make me whole.

 

Me:

Whatever.

 

Instead you freaked out like a scared virgin. I had to be the cool one.  I had to be the sane one.  Cool as I absconded with your hat and boots, my blood running down my leg, when it should have been your spooge.

 

I may find myself prostrate upon one of those boulders of yours, spread open for the world to see what you ALMOST did to me.

 

You and Sylvère must have laughed your asses off when he offered me to you.  He thought you would have fucked me into next week.

 

Maybe you two should do it.  Maybe I'd like to watch.  Let the young fellows sculpt and silkscreen you two in a middle-aged, limp embrace.

 

If only I could stay angry at you.  I want to, but my need is too great.  I'm sucking on a breadstick right now.

 

That's right, you're making me consume carbs.

 

I think of your fingers inside me, and I want to eat a quesadilla.  Limp tortilla, defiled coagulated milk, shredded pulled and marinated dick.  Yes, your dick.  You could have gotten me to chow down on a Dick dick taco, but you had to pussy out.

 

Speaking of which, how am I ever going to sleep tonight?  You've been clit-teasing me since we got here, strutting around like we're _not_ supposed to be eyeing you at crotch level.  Don't forget, I've worn your jeans, no panties.  I bled on you.  Don't wash them.

 

Don't mind the red specks on this paper.  Writing these Dear Dick letters usually makes me have to finish myself off.  Too bad Sylvère isn't here—he likes to watch.

 

I'm inclined to make a short film about this.  Who should I cast in your role? Is there someone working today who can capture your anti-essentialist sensuality, your postmodern hypo-masculinity, your schlong that bends to the left?  Who will work for scale?

 

Heading to the printers to make a thousand copies of this.  All of Marfa, nay, all West Texas needs to read about how I offered to shower you with the life-force of Gaia…and how you ran home with your tail between your legs.

 

You think Meryl Streep can do an American accent?

 

 

_A/N: Amazon has cancelled_ I Love Dick _after one season. Ugh._

_© KTA 2018_


End file.
